Sparrow's Fall
by seraangelus
Summary: A kidnapping, a rescue and now all must deal with the fallout.
1. Chapter 1

_We are drawn to edges, to our own_

_Parapets and sea-walls; finding our lives_

_In relief, in some forked storm._

_Returning with our unimaginable gifts,_

_Badged with salt and blood,_

_We have forgotten how to walk._

_Thinking how much more we wanted,_

_When what we had was all there was;_

_Looking too late to the ones we loved,_

_We stretch out our hands as we fall._

** ~ "Apart" by Robin Robertson**

**Past…**

Dark and cold, squeaking, scurrying bodies fighting over bloody strips of flesh. Water, dripping downward, sliding across rock to pool in stagnant splendour on the cobbled stone floor of the cave. A huddled figure that stared blindly from the darkened corner of the large room, the occasional blink of grime encrusted lashes the only sign of life.

Sound, the soft swish of a well-oiled gate pushed inward and the heavy footfalls of boots on stone. The prisoner flinched backward, instinctively cringing from the light. Gate opening was bad, gate opening meant him, and he always meant more pain.

Jubilee curled into a small, tight ball and tried not to whimper as she heard the footfalls moving closer. Whimpering was punished, any sound was punished. As were movement, non-movement, breathing.

'Please, please not again,' she thought.

Months of torture, night after night of that gate opening, night after night of never-ending pain; night after night the knowledge that they wouldn't come, that they would never come. Jubilee flinched again, his face, his face, cold and amused in equal parts as he broke her body and destroyed her mind, the dry chuckle of yesterday as he broke her arm with a liquid snap.

The footfalls stopped in front of her and she couldn't stop the small whimper, couldn't help the instinctive movement away, and further into the darkness of the cave corner.

'Please, just let me die. Oh God please just let me die. Anything, I'll give you anything, please.'

A gentle hand lifted her chin upward and she stared into familiar eyes, filled with sadness.

"Lass, we've come to bring you home."

**Yesterday…**

"What do we do?"

Sean paced agitatedly, his movements' non-directional and merely an outward evidence of his frustration, without purpose. Emma Frost watched him, her eyes their usual calm blue, showing no sign of her emotions. Sean knew it was a front, a carefully contrived mask for whatever pain or worry she was feeling inside. He just wished she'd show it, he knew it wasn't fair of him, but he needed the comfort of another worried gaze right now.

"We do what we can, Sean," she replied calmly, her voice level, using tightly controlled and modulated tones.

Sean's head shot up from his inner contemplation, or condemnation, it seemed like the same thing.

"Have ye seen the lass, Em? She's like a shadow, I don't even know where to begin trying ta heal this."

"Sean, Jubilee's not unharmed but she is alive. It will take time, but she will survive."

"She's been gone six months. Whatever he did to her in that time, she may never come back."

"Sean, be that as it may, what is important now is that we make Jubilee feel safe here."

"She _is_ safe here."

"Only so long as we keep our guard up, Sean."

**Today...**

It was the third shower she'd taken today, it hadn't made her any cleaner then the first two times but there was something infinitely comforting about the way the warm water felt on her skin. The walls of the shower enclosed her, surrounding her on three sides. If someone were going to come, they'd come in by the thick glass of the shower door. She paused a moment as she felt the brief psychic touch of Emma checking in. Closing her eyes, she savoured the feeling of safety it brought; the mental touch had been an almost constant since Jubilee had returned to the school.

Jubilee knew that the others considered this a bizarre and somewhat alarming personality change. Even Emma herself had begun to be concerned by her continued lack of protest to this presence. She never went near the darker parts of Jubilee's mind, the ones still bleeding and raw.

She leaned her head against the shower wall, the water cascading off her now shoulder-length hair, and trailing down her back in a soothing caress. There'd been nothing to cut it with in the cave, nothing much of anything there really. She'd been absolutely putrid by the time they'd brought her back. Sometimes, she wondered if she'd ever be able to wash away the stench that seemed to linger in her nostrils. Paige had made vague murmurs about taking her out later this week. The thought of going out there, in the open-- no protection, nowhere to hide or escape to...

She started to shake, her fingers digging into the tiled walls of the shower, white with strain. She whispered to herself as she sank slowly to the floor of the shower.

"I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe, I'm safe."


	2. Chapter 2

_I have a piece of advice for you.__  
__Never stop smiling.__  
__For if you give up hope__  
__Then we are all doomed__  
__Because as long as there is one person__  
__Who believes in goodness__  
__Then the world shall be at peace.__  
__But if that person stops believing__  
__Then we have nothing left__  
__And then we shall perish.__  
__You are that person.__  
__So never stop.__  
__Never stop smiling._

**~ Unknown**

_Jubilee,_

_Yeah, I know, where the hell am I? I'm sorry I haven't been there for__  
__you, and that I'm not there now. I know you need me there with you__  
__more now then you need me hunting out some revenge on my own. But it__  
__isn't like that this time._

_This isn't for me, and perhaps that's why the decision was so easy.__  
__I've never killed him, no matter how many fights we had, no matter__  
__what happened, there was a part of me that just didn't want to make__  
__that last blow. Perhaps it's because I was just never good enough, but__  
__now we're gonna find out for sure._

_He had his chance, kid. Whatever went before, it's different now. I__  
__don't care what it takes me, but I will find him, and I will make him__  
__pay. So, you feel safe, Jubilee. Wolvie's gonna keep you safe, just__  
__like he always has before. I know I wasn't there when you most needed__  
__me, that you probably hate me for not being there now. But Jubilee, I__  
__will be there, I promise. But not until I put this right, not until I__  
__fix the mistakes I made long ago._

_Hang in there, it'll all be over soon._

_Love you, kid._

_~Wolverine_

*******

"How is she, Emma?"

"About what you would expect, Charles. She hasn't protested against the mental probes."

"She hasn't protested, at all?" Charles's brow furrowed.

"No."

Charles Xavier rarely gave away the inner workings of his mind, not with body language, or with words. People having been in his presence, often went away with the image of a cold, if not heartless man. Only Charles could ever know the truth behind this regard. Even those who had come to know him well did not always know whether they could truly say who he was. Even now, in light of this obviously drastic change in Jubilee's personality, he gave away nothing.

"Have you made inroads into finding out the extent of the mental damage yet?"

Emma's office was not so much a reflection of herself, as a reflection of how she wished people to see her. White and pristine, but with small personal items placed randomly where whim or perhaps design had relegated them. Along one wall hung various photographs, here, a picture of the Hellions, a younger Emma Frost glaring haughtily into the camera. Another was more recent, Artie handing Emma a small red rose, a St Valentine's day card gripped in the other hand. Emma smiled for a moment as she remembered the day.

Artie had been afraid that she would be upset if she received no gifts, and despite the yuckiness of giving something to a 'girl' had picked the rose from the garden. The card had been handmade. Her smile faded as she remembered that he'd enlisted Jubilee's help for that, the young girl chuckling delightedly at Emma's stunned expression, caught in the photograph for eternity. It had been a long time since she'd heard Jubilee laugh.

"I haven't wanted to get too close. It's like an abattoir in there. If I pushed now it would do more damage then good to the child."

Sean paced off to her right, listening to the conversation in silence, his expression pensive. She itched to reach for his thoughts, to savour the warp and weft of them, take them in like a fine wine and savour the uniqueness of his feel. It had been the hardest lesson of her youth to curb her telepathic abilities. To learn control when the whole world was open to you, every thought and feeling an open book for you and you alone. The desire to dip into each book, and taste the words found there, almost impossible to resist. You could get lost, trailing from one mind to the next, ignoring everything as your body slowly grew weak from lack of sustenance, and finally expired, leaving only your astral presence.

"Have there been any repeats of the catatonia?"

Emma had tried reaching Jubilee's mind when she was first brought in, her frail and broken form curled against Sean, shivering in terror. The invasion of Emma's mind into the cracked shards of her personality had sent her mind into a headlong run into the dark depths of her own psyche, only the iron vice of Emma's power keeping her from descending beyond retrieval into permanent insanity.

"No, she seems to have become accustomed to my mental touch. Although, I'm beginning to worry that she's becoming addicted to it."

"Physically?"

"Bad,"

Sean looked up at this, anger flaring behind bright green eyes and he finally exploded, patience taxed to the limit by this conversation that sounded more like a military report then a conversation between two who had known the lass for more then a few years now.

"He raped the lass, and then carved marks into her flesh, Emma. I'd hate ta see what ye call horrific."

"Emotional outbursts will help nothing, Sean. Would you rather I got down on my knees and howled to the moon?"

'Not now, Sean. Can't you see this will solve nothing?' she thought in exasperation. The Irishman was as emotional as any cliché of standard Irishness, temper, emotions and attitude combined; he irked her as much as he intrigued her. She could never quite decide whether to kill him, or give him the friendship he seemed to desire of her. She had never been one to give her trust to anyone, and yet he seemed to expect it from her as though it were a right that he deserved simply by existing within the same sphere of reality as she. It made her want to beat him senseless more then once in their long association, she sometimes suspected that this course of action would be much safer to her peace of mind in the long run.

"A show of compassion from time to time wouldn't kill ye."

Sean swore softly under his breath, glaring at both the Professor and at Emma. How they could sit calmly and discuss the child as if she were a wax doll to be mended and fitted back into the little mold they had all carved for her. She wouldn't fit any more; he had known that when he'd found her there, in the dark. She would never again fit into the little mold these people desired for her.

"But it wouldn't help her. She needs strength now, not some bleeding heart pointing out to her everything she's lost."

Emma sank deeper into her chair, glaring at the Irishman with anger that was almost close to hate. How dare he tell her to have compassion, when he knew nothing of her mind, or her emotions? She above all here might know what that child had suffered. She above all knew the mental anguish of being helpless to stop the monster.

"No, Em. But she does need something."

"Sean, we're not unfeeling monsters. But we need to be able to talk about this without breaking down. If we seem a little detached to you, then we are doing our job."

***

Jubilee noticed that the water had stopped; she looked up at Paige, who placed a towel around her shivering body. The hot water had run out long ago, but she hadn't realised until now just how cold she was.

"Jubie, you okay?"

"Paige?"

Paige picked her up, wrapping the towel around her more tightly as she shivered in the cool air of the bathroom. Jubilee thought about protesting, but to be truthful, the feeling of someone actually caring felt good, too good to actually forgo it for simple pride. Slipping one arm under Jubilee's legs, Paige carried her out of the bathroom and down the hall to their room. Emma had asked her to move back in with Jubilee when she'd returned. Even though with the help of Shi'ar technology they'd been able to fix her broken arm, her crushed ankle had been almost impossible to heal. It would be in a cast for at least another four months before they could discern whether the medical treatment had managed to heal the worst of the damage.

Paige knew that Emma had spent hours at the Xavier Institute arguing with Dr McCoy and the other X-men that Jubilee should be at the school rather then stay with them. It had, surprisingly, been Charles Xavier who had convinced them to let her go. Paige had never met their ultimate benefactor, having only heard of him through reading the history of his attempts at mutant/human co-existence and Jubilee's various tales. She couldn't fathom why he'd taken Emma's side, or why he thought Jubilee would be safer here.

If it had been Paige's decision she would have left Jubilee at the Mansion. She wasn't arrogant enough to believe that any of them could take Sabertooth, alone or together. Emma and Sean might stand a chance, but they'd be distracted by having to look out for their students. It was a bad combination, and the tactician in Paige knew it. Of course, the emotional part of her was glad Jubilee was home, where they could take care of her. Paige knew that the X-men had known her first, but she couldn't believe that they would be able to take care of her better then her family could, and Generation-X, for all intents and purposes, had been Jubilee's family for the last five years.

Paige placed Jubilee on her feet when she reached to door to their room and pushed it open, helping the girl hobble inside. She made to leave, thinking Jubilee would want to get changed in privacy; the death grip the girl held on her hand made her pause.

"Jubie?"

"Would you mind waiting around a bit? Just, to talk, you know?"

Paige smiled softly. "Of course, I'll be waiting outside, just give me a holler when you're dressed."

"Sure."

***

Penance sniffed the wind, her light blue eyes glancing about in interest as she wandered through the grounds of the school. The scent of the fuzzy man still lingered from his visit several days ago. He never went in, just watched; he would give her apples from time to time. He had light inside him, even though the shadows were deep around the outside, she liked his voice. He had given her apples the last time he came to the home place.

He wasn't like the other fuzzy man, the one with the red flashes and black jagged lightning inside. He didn't hate like that one did. She'd been frightened the night he came and she had hidden in Emma's room, crawling into her closet and crouching there among the clothes, hiding from him so that he might not find her. He had found the sparkling one though, and he'd taken her from the home place. It hadn't been right that he had done that, taken the sparkling one. She belonged in the home place, not out there in the world beyond. There were monsters out there, with grey coloured fear inside and hollow eyes.

Penance crouched outside the window of the sparkling one now, looking inside warily. She'd not been back to this room since--since the angry fuzzy man had been here. Penance imagined she could still smell his scent in the bushes outside the window, and she froze a moment, glancing back toward the safety of the woods. Crawling along the ground she peeked over the ledge of the window and saw the sparkling one, and the sunhaired one inside. Penance nodded as she watched the two. It was good that the sparkling one was in the home place again, it was right that they should all be here-- in the home place. Penance smiled and loped away back toward the woods; everything would be okay now she thought.

***

Paige tucked Jubilee into bed, handing her the small bear Angelo had brought her as a get well present when she'd been at the Mansion. She reached over, flicking off the lamp and descending the room into darkness, save for the light coming from the hallway door.

"Night, Jubie. Try and get some sleep, okay?"

Paige moved over to her own bed, pulling down the covers and placing the various throw pillows she'd arranged on it on the floor in a neat pile. Jubilee shifted, whimpering softly as her ankle protested at the movement.

"Paige?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared."

"I'm right here."

"But.."

Paige shook her head sadly, she'd have never asked for help before. Too stubborn to be scared, and sure as hell too stubborn to ever actually admit it if she was. Paige trudged back over to Jubilee's bed, sliding under the covers and spooning around the smaller girl. Jubilee relaxed, the fear and tension dropping from her as she felt the protective curve of Paige's body, finally dropping off to sleep with a weary sigh. Paige watched the wall, her thoughts troubled as she stroked Jubilee's hair in a comforting gesture. Whatever that monster had done to her, it had changed Jubilee, perhaps forever. There were so many differences in her personality that she found herself in an almost constant state of surprise. The timidness, and the quaking fear she felt from Jubilee made her want to scream at times, whether from fury at Sabertooth, or at Jubilee for letting him beat her, she didn't know.

***

"Why don't you get some sleep?"

Emma smiled wryly, her eyes traveling to the pile of work on her otherwise spotless desk. She waved her hand at it as she answered.

"If I slept who would do all this, tinker gnomes?"

"It'll wait for ye to get enough sleep, Emma. I doubt very much that it'll increase any in a few hours."

"Perhaps, but I'm not tired, Sean."

Sean almost laughed, the woman was as stubborn as any he'd met, and he'd met quite a few mule headed women in his time. He took the pen from her hand and raised an eyebrow when she opened her mouth to protest. She sighed and gave him a look.

"Sean, this is hardly the time to go all manly on me."

"You need your sleep, Emma."

"So you said, I'm not buying it. Give me back my pen."

"No."

"Childish?"

"Stubborn."

Emma quietly dropped her head into her hands and beat her head against the desk a few times; it felt good. She looked back up at Sean; he hadn't left. She glared at him and shuffled the paper around on her desk, cleaning up. He stood there, looking for the entire world like a stone statue. She pondered just knocking him out and then decided against it. The one thing, she didn't need right now were X-men breathing down her neck and yelling about abuse of powers. She glared at him again for good measure and tried out a pout--he wasn't buying. She pouted some more, putting her whole bottom lip into the effort and he just smiled at her. Dammit, she was pouting; he should be putty in her hands.

"Emma?"

"Yes?"

"Ye don't really think that's going to work on me, do ye?"

"No."

"Good, so why don't you go get some sleep now."

"Sean?"

"Yes?"

"Anyone ever tell you what a pain in the arse you are?"

"The children tell me constantly."

"Good."

"Night, Emma."

"Goodnight, Sean."

Emma Frost levered herself up from her desk and stumbled toward the door, it hadn't been until she'd actually thought about sleep seriously that she'd realised just how damn tired she was. She might have thanked Sean, but it would wait for some other day, and a time when she wasn't half-dead on her feet.

Later, as she lay in her bed, her mind drifting toward sleep, she sent out her thoughts checking every nook and cranny of the school where an intruder might hide, her mind cataloguing each mind within her influence. Then, satisfied, she slept.


	3. Chapter 3

_And with tears of blood he cleansed the hand,_

_ The hand that held the steel;_

_ For only blood can wipe out blood,_

_ And only tears can heal._

**~ Oscar Wilde**

The chapel had never been used much, the children of this school inclined to worship anything save for the general cultural pop icons of their generation. It was quiet and still within the confines of its cool stone walls with its single dusty pew. A tray of candles sat under an altar, the lead glass window would shine blues and reds and yellows across the carpeted floor in the morning, but at the moment it was dark as the night outside. The carpet was thick and soft under Jubilee's feet as she crept into the small chapel. It was three in the morning, and Paige had left the previous morning to visit her relatives. The nightmares had increased.

Jubilee shivered at the memory and quietly knelt in one corner of the chapel. She did not come here to pray, she couldn't have said that she believed in anything in particular. Yet, she remembered places like this, quiet soft places where she would sit and watch her mother light a candle and pray. It had been a very, very long time since Jubilee had entered anything even remotely resembling a church, but she could still feel the safety in the stone walls.

She curled up on the carpet, laying her head against her arms and watched the small candle burning brightly. She pondered who might have lit it. Perhaps Angelo, or maybe Irish. They were both Catholic, or at least she'd assumed they were. She realised she'd never really asked them before. It wasn't something on the "need to know" list she kept in her head for the people she knew. She brushed aside the thoughts that crowded her head and closed her eyes, curling back against the wall behind her and tried to sleep, perhaps here the nightmares wouldn't find her.

*******

**_Past..._**

Jubilee ran her breath rasping in gasps from her throat as she sucked in air, and thrashed through the snow and the trees in front of her. It was a forest, why did the bad guys always seem to wanna drag you out beyond any civilization? Like it was some kinda code or something. Kidnap sidekick, take to wilderness setting and beat the living shit out of.

Well, it hadn't worked, she'd escaped and the dumb fuck wouldn't even realise she was gone till it was too late. Jubilee grinned when she thought about how proud Wolvie would be of her. They'd have to respect her now, they'd see that she was more then just a mouth and a yellow raincoat. She slipped and tumbled a short way, fetching up against a log with a hard thump. Cursing under her breath she rubbed her side and picked herself up. Damn roots, you'd think the trees could stick them somewhere more convenient, like not under her feet. It'd been an hour now since she'd left the cave Sabertooth had holed her up in. She'd knocked him out cold with a rock she'd found lying on the floor at the back of the cave.

Jubilee was young, arrogant and a teenager, it hadn't occurred to her that Sabertooth might have been faking it. She was more concerned with how much damage all this foliage and weird nature stuff was doing to her clothing. This was why when he popped up in front of her beyond the next hill and backhanded her into the nearest tree she was altogether on the shocked side.

'Oh Fuck,' was the last thing she managed to think before her head cracked against the tree, and she was down for the count.

*******

She awoke in the cave, her shoes had been stripped away at some stage, and Sabertooth sat watching her, a smile briefly appearing before it was gone. Jubilee didn't like the look of that smile one bit.

"You ain't gonna get outta here. If this didn't prove that, then you are one dumb stupid bitch. But just to prove it to ya a little more, I'm gonna give you a little lesson."

Sabertooth reached forward and sank his claws into her ankle, applying pressure to the bone. Jubilee bit back a scream with effort, her teeth clamping down on her lip and drawing blood. This stoicism lasted as long as it took for Sabertooth to crush the bones of her ankle, turning her flesh purple with broken blood vessels, the swelling already beginning to make her ankle twice its normal size. Jubilee screamed, her cry starting low and developing into an ear-splitting caterwaul as Sabertooth ground the bones together, the snap and pop of them cracking and then crushing loud in her ears.

"You see, frail? There's nothing you can do. You can't beat me; you can't even stand up. So, you shut up, you do what I say, and maybe I'll just kill you."

He brushed his bloodied hand over her hair and down her face in a caress, the look in his eyes making her shudder. He smiled and stood, walking to the entrance of the cave and then out. Jubilee whimpered, her ankle one mass of pain, but she wouldn't faint, Logan wouldn't, so she couldn't do less then that. She would get through this, make him proud of her, she would.

*******

Sabertooth licked the blood from a claw as he stood at the entrance of the cave. He could hear the soft whimpers of the girl from inside. She would prove an interesting distraction for the time being. He knew the runt cared for this one, and unlike the Jewish girl she had no abilities to protect herself. The light show had been amusing of course but little more then that. He'd fought blind before and the momentary discomfort of the explosions was more then compensated for by his own mutant power. He'd been amused enough by the frail's attempt however that he'd only strangled her into unconsciousness, rather then killing her.

She really wouldn't do him any good dead. He wanted her corpse to be fresh for when he finally let Wolverine find her. He smiled at the thought of laying the girl's fresh corpse out in front of his enemy, and seeing the look of disbelief and failure in the runt's face right before he finally killed him. That would come later however, the game would need to go on for quite some time. He'd learnt that his enemy was quite resilient, and killing the girl now would be a minor pain, something forgotten except for the burning need for revenge he knew he already inspired in Wolverine for the several previous times he'd damaged or broken his little pets.

It had always amused him that Wolverine felt genuine affection for these weaklings. It was a weakness that was so easily exploited; he couldn't understand why he let it happen. Now, that very emotional attachment would be the end of him. Sabertooth had grown tired of playing with this particular toy, it was time to finally kill and eat the mouse. To do that he would need to be patient, he needed to drive Wolverine to the edge mentally before he confronted him physically, something he had no problems with, especially since he had a new toy to amuse him while he waited.

*******

_**Now...**_

She groaned in pain as she awoke, the soft carpeted floor still no match for a proper mattress. Her ankle ached this morning, and she looked down at the plaster with a wrinkled nose. They'd said they couldn't heal it properly, that even Shi'ar technology was no match for the extensive damage done. The best they'd been able to do was heal it sufficiently that she'd be able to limp with it without too much pain. But she'd never be fit for the superhero gig again. It was just one more failure, one more loss to add to all the others that seemed piled into a pyramid of regrets and fear and self-loathing.

*******

Jonothon closed the door quietly behind him, although he knew no one could hear him in this part of the school. There was a light in the chapel; this might not be unusual in itself since often Angelo or Mr Cassidy would leave a candle burning. What was unusual is that he could sense someone in the chapel. Moving quietly he quickly crossed the distance between the outside door to the entrance, and peered inside. He blinked when he saw Jubilee sitting on the pew.

Jonothon had gotten used to not needing sleep over the years since his powers manifested. He still tried to shut down for a few hours every night, if only to kill the time between dusk and dawn, but that mockery of real sleep was nothing like what he remembered from before. His body no longer needed the down-time, his brain didn't automatically slow down, nor did his muscles relax in the way they used to when his body finally tired itself out. It was effort of will more then anything else that shunted him off into the darkness for a few blessed hours of oblivion. If he dreamed, he didn't remember it and was glad for the respite.

Lately, he'd taken to patrolling the school, although he didn't consciously call it that. He'd felt restless since the night Paige had come running into his room, telling him that she'd seen Jubilee being carted off by Sabertooth in the cold dawn light. She'd been smart not to chase after him, even with her husking ability she was no match for a man who could go toe to toe with the X-men and survive.

Jonothon knew Emma blamed herself for being asleep, for not sensing or knowing of Sabertooth's presence, but she wasn't like him, wasn't mostly energy in a human shell. He knew most of them thought he brooded on that but he'd accepted long ago that he would never be fully human again. Still, he'd become a world class lurker and brooder in the years before that and it was hard to give up habits so well ingrained.

He walked into the chapel, flinching inwardly as he noted Jubilee's dull stare as she noted the movement. She'd obviously not expected the company, because the stare turned from dull to frightened to angry in a rapid-fire succession of emotions that left Jono's telepathic senses slightly seasick. He thanked the gods he wasn't an empath and raised his eyebrows at her.

(Firecracker, what're you doin' up this late?)

She glared at him, hugging her legs against her chest as she turned back to the small candles burning in their holders..

"Go away, Jono."

She didn't want him to do that, he could sense it even without the empathic abilities. What she wanted more then anything was for someone to hold her and tell her it was gonna be all right. He knew this because it's exactly what he had wanted, so long ago. Only, he'd not wanted anyone to know that he needed it either. The war between being strong, and seeking help, between pride and a desperate need for comfort was a strange one. You could lash out at the people who were only trying to care about you because it shamed you to let them see you so weak. You hated yourself for that weakness, all the while despairing that you might ever crawl out of the hole you'd found yourself in alone.

Jonothon wasn't having a minute of it. He knew those tricks, had used them all himself on countless occasions and he wasn't gonna buy the bullshit attitude for a second. Sitting down beside her, he slung his arm up against the back of the pew. Jubilee backed away a little further, depsite the fact that he was nowhere near her. He could see her shaking slightly, her eyes fixed on the stained glass window. Jono sighed, closing his eyes for a second against the pain of seeing his friend like this. It was all the more painful because there was nothing he could do about it. He shrugged as if her rejection hadn't been noticed and leant back against the pew, looking up at the beamed roof.

(So, read any good books lately?)

"Asshole."

(World class, even got an award for it.)

Jubilee smiled despite herself, and finally looked at him. "What're you doin' wanderin' around the school this time of night, Jono?"

(Perfecting my dangerous lookin' broodin' guy impersonation, yourself?)

She hesitated a moment and the look in her eyes made him want to find that bastard and tear him five ways from Sunday. "Nightmares."

(Yeah, I get those too sometimes. But staying in here isn't going to do you any good. You need your sleep, Jubie.)

"Can't, he's always there waiting," she whispered brokenly.

(Jubie, what if I could make sure he wouldn't be waiting?)

"You can't control dreams, Jono."

Jonothon deflated a bit, he wished he could have said that he could control dreams. He wished that he could have taken the nightmares away from his friend. The truth was, he couldn't. He hadn't the control for that level of minute manipulation, yet anyhow. All he had was a jackhammer when what he needed was a scalpel. He couldn't help her that way. He could however try to win her trust; maybe over time he'd win enough of it that she'd let him closer. He had a thought that the nightmares came when she was alone and unfortunately with Paige gone there was no one to watch over her.

(How about I take you back to your room?)

Jubilee sighed, looking around the chapel. "Here, my room, what difference does it make?"

Jonothon thought for a moment, running over options. He never slept, people who never sleep have a tendency to develop diversions to help with the long arduous haul that is the hours between dusk and dawn. One of Jonothon's diversions was music. He'd been a musician for quite some time before his power had blown his face off. Now he was no longer able to sing, but he could still play and did so frequently. Perhaps he could share his music with Jubilee now and ease her pain a little. He knew it was a fairly lame start, especially since she didn't even trust him enough to sit close to him but it was a start.

(How about we go to the rec room then. I've got my guitar in there somewhere, I could probably play you something. Heck, it might even bore you to sleep.)

Jubilee snorted and shook her head. She'd heard Jono play, there were many things she could say about it but boredom inducing wasn't one. Should she trust him? She'd trusted Paige and Paige seemed to love this man. Only, it was so hard to let people close right now. It felt as if she was waiting for the pain, although she had no idea why she expected them to give her pain. Only that the feeling of impending doom was always there. The only way she got rid of it was by running and training till she was almost blacking out with exhaustion, but even that didn't stop the nightmares. She'd lie awake an hour; sometimes it would be three, later, trembling and wet with fear sweat. The only time the nightmares didn't come was if someone was in the room with her, watching over her sleep. But Paige wasn't here right now. If she'd been at the mansion she might have gone to the Professor. As stern as he appeared sometimes he'd always been kind to her. Aloof, but he'd always given her the time of day when she had questions. She had a feeling he'd know what these feelings were like too; he'd gone through his own tortures. But she wasn't at the mansion.

"Sure, got nothin' better to do," she said, trying for nonchalant but got merely exhausted.

Jono smiled inwardly and nodded, getting to his feet and moving out of her way. Jubilee smiled thankfully at him and walked by, careful not to let him into her personal space. It wasn't that she disliked Jonothon, or distrusted him even. It was just that lately she'd not been able to let anyone in her personal space without a panic attack almost crippling her. It'd taken Paige a week of living in almost constant contact with her before Jubilee had let her near, and Emma had been in her mind almost as constantly.

But she supposed she'd have to make some attempt at resuming normal human contact sooner or later, might as well be now. Night-time had a way of doing that, making decisions that would have been impossible in the light of day almost easy in comparison. Perhaps after awhile, she might even be able to talk to Jono without feeling like running away.


	4. Chapter 4

_Was macht ein Mann_

_was macht ein Mann_

_der zwischen Mensch und Tier_

_nicht unterscheiden kann_

_was_

**_'Tier' - Rammstein_**

"Yo, Jubes, got some mail for you."

Jubilee looked up from the math homework she'd been tediously working her way through. She'd never really been one for homework but now the sheer concentration it sometimes took would help her calm her thoughts to a level that she could deal with.

"Who'd be mailing me anything?"

"Don't know, but it's heavy and from Canada."

'Wolverine?' Jubilee wondered painfully.

Jubilee had almost driven all memory of Wolverine from her mind, locking it up tight in places she wouldn't go. She didn't want to think about him, or about Sabertooth. She didn't want to think about anything at all and yet the memories kept pushing at her mind, demanding to be let out. She wondered if it wasn't driving her slowly insane. She still couldn't stand to be touched and it had been getting worse. Even a small brush against her in the most innocent of circumstances could send her into a fighting stance, ready for the pain to come.

Skin dropped the box in front of her, raising an eyebrow. "Never seen anyone so unenthused to get mail."

"You would be too when that mail tends to be things like the heads of your friends," Jubilee quipped absently as she opened the box.

Jubilee looked at the contents for a moment, her hair blocking Skin's view of the contents. She then quickly closed the box, slowly pushed back her chair and walked out of the room. Skin watched her go, perplexed. The old Jubilee would have been bouncing all over the room to have received a package from Canada. Not only that but it would then be followed by days of "When Wolvie and I were traveling together" stories.

Looking again at the door Jubilee had left by, he glanced down at the box. Finally, his curiosity way too much to contain; he opened the box.

Inside, the head of Wolverine stared up at him with one unblinking eye, the other had the eyelid pulled down in a grotesque parody of a wink. Taped to the centre of his head was a scrap of paper with the scrawled words: "I'm coming for you bitch."

*******

Wolverine stared out at the falling snow, stirring the pot of soup slowly. He'd tracked Creed up into Canada, but had then lost the scent near a small cabin. He'd decided to spend the night and try to pick the trail back again in the morning. There were other signs than scent that would let him track Creed in the light.

He blinked as he noticed a whiff of scent on the breeze from the open window to his right, as if summoned by his thoughts. Sabertooth was nearby. Surely, he hadn't been stupid enough. The door caved in, kicked to the ground by a heavy, booted foot and Sabertooth stood leaning in the now-empty doorframe.

Wolverine growled low in his throat and slowly put down the spoon, turning off the flame on the stove.

Apart from the door now lying on the floor of the cabin, the scene looked almost tranquil; neither were moving very fast, nor did they seem to be measuring each other for a coming battle. If it hadn't been for the malice that is - that curled slowly through the air between them, a palpable scent to their heightened senses.

"You know, that girlie of yours has quite the voice. I've been missing it lately, thought I might go back and have another go at her. What do you think?"

Wolverine popped his claws and took measured steps toward Sabertooth, watching him constantly, trying to gauge which way he'd move.

Sabertooth nodded, as if understanding that this time speech was unnecessary. For all the years he and Wolverine had nurtured their hate for each other, now was the time it would finally end. Here, in this place, there would be no holding back, no mercy. Sabertooth grinned. Just like he'd always wanted it.

Claws flashed, bit into flesh and retracted. Two men moved together, a dance macabre. If anyone with skill had watched they might be amazed at the mixture of styles. But these men had been alive for a very long time, and the martial knowledge they'd amassed over that time was vast.

One moved and the other moved in concert; a dance, its choreography of violence well learnt over the years. Like Yin and Yang, balanced and equal they fought. Wounds were dealt and slowly healed. The silence of the place given over to the bestial grunts of the two fighters, a miasma of violence hung thickly in the air and blood's thick, liquid susurration pattered around them.

Claws flicked out and ground into muscle, sliding slickly into the meat of a thigh. Teeth tore at the neck, rending and tearing.

Wolverine pulled away; falling back for a short, much needed break. He watched Sabertooth wearily, who crouched a few metres away, slowly cleaning a claw wound that had severed the artery in his arm.

Sabertooth tasted the coppery flavour that was his own blood and smiled grimly at his opponent. One of them wouldn't survive this - Sabertooth had already decided that one wouldn't be him. Crouching, he sprang at Logan again, claws spread, blood lust clear in his eyes.

*******

Jean paused for a moment, looking into the distance. Scott placed a hand on his wife's shoulder, looking up at the control booth. Rogue nodded, turning off the simulation.

"What is it, Jean?"

"Scott, we have to go."


	5. Chapter 5

_Crawling in my skin._

_ These wounds they will not heal._

_ Fear is how I fall._

_ Confusing what is real._

_ There's something inside me_

_ that pulls beneath the surface_

_ Consuming/confusing._

_ This lack of self-control_

_ I fear is never ending._

_ Controlling/_

_ I can't seem to find myself again_

_ My walls are closing in_

_ **- Linkin' Park "Crawling"**_

Jean picked apart the tissue in her hand, looking out at the bright sunshine. Scott made a slight course correction and glanced at his wife. He hadn't asked her any questions yet, just bundled her into the Blackbird and set off for the school.

Jean wasn't sure if it was because of his trust in her as a teammate or a wife that let him wait for her explanation, whilst following her orders perfectly. There had been times in the past when an assignment might have failed or succeeded on that.

"Logan is dead," she said softly.

She could feel Scott tense through their bond and clutched her hands against the tissue, shredding it further. Nothing showed on the surface, his face immaculate in its concentration. Yet underneath, she could feel his confusion. Scott and Logan had never been friends, yet he was a teammate. Grief, guilt? elation? She felt them all, oozing across the gulf between them, suffocating her in their intensity.

"Enough! Scott, enough."

Jean felt the slackening of the connection between them as Scott brought his emotions under control; he sighed and turned on the autopilot.

"Are you sure?"

Jean nodded, and she could feel his regret like strong coffee in the back of her throat. As much as Scott had felt Logan to be a rival for her affections, he had never hated the man.

"I felt... an emptiness where before there had been a void. It's hard to explain, Scott. Logan had always been a blank to me, hard to read because of the many different memories he had. Yet, it was always like a black ocean. Unreadable because of its vastness, but there. It's not there any more. He's not coming back this time, Scott; and Jubilee knows, I felt it, I felt her for just a second and then nothing. That's why we're going to the school, something is wrong."

She threw herself into her role, that of the capable telepath, surveying the situation and doing what she thought was best. It was avoidance, really. She would have to face the dark well of her own grief at some stage, but at the moment she could hide from it by helping others. Time enough to break into a million pieces once she knew Jubilee was safe.

*******

Emma flipped the switch on the com-unit, smiling as Sean's face appeared on screen.

"Sean, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Cut with the false pleasantries, Emma. How's the Lass?"

"Always the flatterer, Cassidy. Jubilation is fine. I was able to direct her out of the room and locked away the memory before it could do any harm to the blocks already in place."

"I still don't agree with ye in this, Emma. I don't think locking away the lass's memories is going to help in the long run. I doubt ye'll get Jean to agree with ye either."

"As I told you, Sean. She doesn't have to agree; she merely has to stay out of my way. I will do as I see fit to protect one of my students."

"Watch what you say to her. She'll not be such a pushover as I think ye expect. She could well decide Jubilee is better with her and the Professor, and I can't say I'd disagree with her."

"Let me worry about the esteemed Mrs Summers, Sean. Go back to your "holiday". You didn't have the stomach for this when you first found out, stay out of it now."

"Emma, if you harm her..."

Emma reached over and shut off the com-unit, cutting Sean off mid-threat. He'd found out some time ago that she had been slicing and dicing Jubilee's memories, as he called it. He'd confronted her and she'd refused to remove her influence from the girl. He'd left then, telling her he wouldn't stick around while she broke every ethical rule in the book. She'd assumed he'd try to take Jubilee with him but for whatever reasons of his own, he hadn't. Whatever the reason, it didn't really matter. Her technique was working.

*******

Emma was waiting for them when they reached the school. Arms folded in front of her, she regarded them with a half-amused smile. Jean took an instant dislike to her attitude and spent a moment formulating why. It wasn't so much that she was doing anything, she was in fact standing there, it was just the way she stood.

A "this is my school, what the hell do you want?" stance, she knew however that Emma wasn't the type to say such things, or even really to think them. Possibly because she'd never had to state her ownership of anything, it simply was. Jean was immediately suspicious of this Emma, she was hiding something where Emma had never had the urge to hide anything before.

"Jean, Scott, what an unexpected pleasure."

"Emma," Jean answered, jumping from the last few steps onto the ground.

Scott passed her their bags; a frenzied rush from the Mansion had meant they only had the emergency bags that they kept in the Blackbird at all times. Still, it would last them for the time they were here.

"I trust your flight was pleasant?" Emma replied.

Jean raised an eyebrow slightly. "I hadn't pictured you to be one for useless small-talk, Emma."

"It serves its purpose."

Scott stepped down from the Blackbird, placing his hand on Jean's shoulder. "Perhaps this conversation is better had inside? We have some bad news that affects Jubilee."

Emma smiled coldly and turned on her heel. "Follow me then, my office should suffice."

*******

The pencil moved, stroking across the paper, leaving a thick stroke of black behind. Smudged and feathered it turned into an eyebrow; the pencil moved again and now an eye appeared under it. Jonothon paused in the doorway, watching Jubilee draw. She'd always been good at it but lately her work had taken on a darker feel, an almost manic intensity, as she covered the walls of her room with drawing after drawing. It seemed the only thing that really calmed her any more when the black moods got too bad.

(What're you drawing?)

Jubilee looked up, startled, her pencil point breaking as her hand slipped across the paper. Jonothon blinked and came further into the room, only to stop a second after when she stood up, the chair falling over behind her.

(Hey, it's only me. Jean and Scott are here. Emma's got them in her office at the moment but, how much would you like to bet they're here to see you?)

She nodded and Jonothon stepped back outside the door, watching her shrink past him. He sighed, only a day ago he'd been able to sit beside her without her shrinking away, now she was back to this. He wished he knew how to fix things because it looked like she might never get better this way.


	6. Chapter 6

_It's hard to let go_

_ To all that we know_

_ As I walk away from you_

_ Hurled from my home_

_ Into the unknown_

_ As I walk away from you._

_ **- Crowded House "I Walk Away"**_

It was raining and for some reason she wanted to laugh. It seemed such a clichéd weather pattern to be leaving on, dramatic, really. She wondered if perhaps she shouldn't be flouncing, rather then just walking quietly to the car while Jonothon struggled with one of the heavier bags behind her.

She might have suspected Storm of a rather vicious sense of humour, if she'd been in the area. But as far as Jubilee knew, she was still in Westchester.

Jono was pointedly not asking her what had happened. She could feel his not-asking like a physical pressure. Well, he could continue not asking and she would continue not telling, it wasn't worth going over a second time anyway, or even a first for that matter. Frankly, she'd have been much happier if the first was just a weird dream that she'd wake up from any moment, or if all of it had been a bizarre dream.

Still, she was being Strong right now and the first thing Strong never did was dither about the past. At least that's what she told herself. Introspection was never her thing anyway.

Jonothon opened the door for her and she slid into the seat. He closed the door behind her and got into the other side, sitting for a moment, waiting for something. She smiled, the not-asking silence became thicker, and after a moment, he reached forward and started the car.

She released a breath she hadn't even noticed she'd held when they passed out of the gate. What had she expected? Jonothon glanced at her and she knew he must have been feeling the confusion coming off her in waves. Still, she didn't feel like talking right now. What she felt like ... was sleeping. So she did.

*******

There are memories that will forge themselves into your soul. That will rip their way into your fore brain, where they will squat, fierce and fat with their triumph.

Of these, Jubilee had a few: Bastion's voice had been dominant awhile, it's soft cadence backed with the acrid tang of machine. Urging her to give in, to give up, to surrender to her tired limbs and haunted mind. Sabertooth had been a recent arrival. After a while though, all the memories turned to a jumbled mash of hollow noise. It was all just another day now, and just another thing to ignore.

*******

It was cold outside when Jonothon dropped her off at the airport; he drew the collar up around her neck and she stopped herself from flinching away from him. He looked at her for a moment, she could almost see him gathering his thoughts together and she smiled. Jonothon had always been the most silent of them, especially considered next to her. He never could quite manage the goodbye speeches and it was nice that he might be trying to do so for her now. She decided to take pity on him.

"It's okay, you know."

(Are you sure? Maybe I should come with you?)

"NO!"

Jonothon started at her vehemence and stepped back slightly from the mild look of panic in her eyes.

(Jubie ...)

"Jono, just stop, okay? Just, listen."

Jono leant back against the car he'd driven her to the airport in and folded his arms. She looked agitated, her hands rubbing against her thighs as she gathered her thoughts.

(I'm listening.)

"It's nothing personal, okay? It's just ... I've got to do this myself. If I let you come with me, I'm leaning on you and it'd be like if I'd never left in the first place. Because that's what they thought of me, it's what let them make decisions for me that I had no say in, because I couldn't make them myself. If you came with me, sooner or later you'd be making those decisions too, and you'd tell yourself they were for my own good, and you'd think that you were doing it because it was best. But, you'd be just as wrong as they were."

(Jubilee. What happened in Emma's office?)

So, he'd asked. Jubilee was surprised at the sound of her full nickname. He hadn't called her anything but 'Jubie' in a long time.

"Why is it any of your business?"

(Because I care. Because I'm not letting you go off alone until I know you're not just running blind.)

"I'm not a coward."

(No, you're not.)

"They were talking about me. I must have walked in on a fight because they didn't even notice I was there at first. Scott was talking at Emma."

(At?)

"Yeah. It wasn't a normal argument, you know? Where everyone's screaming at each other and you're just waiting for someone to swan off in a huff. This was more intense. The kind that starts those century-long family feuds where it's all stony silences and sideways remarks, you know?"

(So, what happened?)

"Jean noticed I was there. Scott must have caught it from their link, because he stopped and looked at me. I'd already heard enough though. Jono, Emma's been playing with my memories. Erasing them, I think. At least, that's what I got from what was said before they all clammed up."

(The hell?)

"I don't know, okay? I only heard Jean yelling at Emma about the fact that I had a right to know Wolvie was dead and how she shouldn't have taken that memory away. After that they noticed I was there and I just ran. I didn't want to stick around for the rest. All I know is that I've gotta go find out why he died."

(And you think I'm gonna let you do that alone?)

"Why the hell not? I'm an adult, Jono."

(Because I wouldn't be much of a friend if I did.)

Jubilee sighed and looked him in the eye. "Jono, please. I need to do this alone, please? I need to know I can hack it out there and if you came with me, I'd never know. Look, I'll keep in touch, okay? I promise."

Jonothon shook his head and dug in his pocket, fishing out a cellphone.

(Was gonna give you this for your birthday. But, looks like you're not gonna be around for that. You call me at the end of each week, okay? If I don't hear from you I'll come looking, so don't forget.)

Jubilee smiled and took the phone from him. "I won't forget. Now will you get out of here? I have a plane to catch."

Jonothon pulled her into a hug and she paused there, holding on tight to a friend for just a moment longer. Then, she walked away and he didn't follow.

The End


End file.
